


Unexpected

by linndechir



Category: Assassin's Creed - All Media Types
Genre: Consent Play, M/M, Porn with Feelings, Rough Sex, Spanking, Under-negotiated Kink
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-31
Updated: 2019-10-31
Packaged: 2021-01-02 14:01:53
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,934
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21162818
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/linndechir/pseuds/linndechir
Summary: Alexios didn't know what Brasidas had planned when he told him to wait for him in the woods, but he was happy to play along. Brasidas usually had excellent ideas.





	Unexpected

**Author's Note:**

  * For [wednesday](https://archiveofourown.org/users/wednesday/gifts).

It was a cool autumn night, the kind that made a man grateful for a warm fire the moment the sun set. Alexios could have been a few miles south in his own bed, but instead he was sitting out in the woods, on a small clearing not far from the road, and his campfire took longer to get going than he would have liked. Though he supposed the fact that he’d taken off his armour and his sandals and sat there in nothing but his tunic contributed to just how cold he felt. Anywhere else in Greece he would have felt foolish to leave himself so vulnerable, but this close to Sparta he was sure he was quite safe. That and it had seemed like good planning for later.

He’d never been good at waiting patiently, and the fact that he didn’t know what _exactly_ he was waiting for only made it more difficult. He hoped Brasidas’ syssitia didn’t run too late this evening, or he might have to wait for several hours.

Fortunately it was still well before midnight when Alexios finally heard someone approach behind him. Spartans had a great many qualities, but silently stalking through the woods didn’t tend to be among them. Still, Alexios stayed where he was, pretending he hadn’t noticed anything, with one hand on his spear just in case it wasn’t Brasidas. Once he came closer, though, Alexios recognised the cadence of his steps, the slight creak of his armour. He relaxed again and stayed where he was. The only thing Brasidas had told him was not to fight back too much – a little disappointing, considering how much fun they often had wrestling each other into submission, but Alexios was all too happy to try out new things. Brasidas tended to have excellent ideas.

Alexios shuddered when he felt the cold pressure of a blade against his throat, a short sword rather than the tip of a spear.

“Some people would consider it unwise to travel alone, especially at night,” Brasidas said behind him. Hearing his voice made Alexios smile, even though Brasidas sounded less friendly than usual – there was something hard in his tone that he usually reserved for more serious situations, and the strength in it made Alexios lick his lips in anticipation.

“And here I was told Spartan lands were supposed to be safe,” he said, feeling his throat move against the blade. He wasn’t quite sure yet where this game was going, but he’d try his best to play along.

“Quite safe.” Brasidas leant forward and Alexios felt the hot brush of his breath on his neck. “For Spartans.”

Alexios turned his head just enough that he could glance at him – the glint in his eyes, that scar on his cheek that Alexios so liked kissing. He was wearing his armour, of course, and as always he looked every inch the perfect Spartan warrior. It had never been something Alexios thought he would be so irresistibly drawn to. He could have told him he was Spartan himself, and these days that was even true, but he had a feeling that might defeat the purpose.

“Don’t you keep your guests safe as well?” He grinned a little. “Those big swords and spears must be good for something.”

Out of the corner of his eyes he saw Brasidas’ lips twitch, as if he was trying not to smile. 

“Oh, they are.” Brasidas’ voice still sounded hard, as dangerous as the blade he kept pressed against Alexios’ throat. Alexios wondered if he’d be fast enough to get away if Brasidas actually did try to hurt him, and decided that it didn’t matter. Other than his parents, he couldn’t think of a single person in Greece less likely to try to murder him. “But let’s say our hospitality comes at a price.”

Brasidas’ left hand went for Alexios’ hair, grabbed a fistful for it and pulled his head back, leaving his throat even more vulnerable. Alexios felt his cock twitch under his tunic. So _that_ was where Brasidas had been going with this.

“What if I say no?” he asked. He had to fight the temptation to touch himself, or to turn around and touch Brasidas. It was hard enough to keep his hands off him when they were in Sparta proper, surrounded by curious eyes, but out here with nobody to watch them but the stars, it was torture.

“I didn’t say I required you to say yes,” Brasidas said. His voice had dropped lower still, and he was close enough that Alexios could feel his beard against his ear.

Brasidas could move fast enough to take even Alexios by surprise, and there was an dizzyingly casual strength in his movements when he yanked on Alexios’ hair again, easily forced him around to face Brasidas and down to his knees. Alexios only struggled enough to make Brasidas work for it a little more, to let himself feel the strength in his movements. For a moment the tip of the sword poked into Alexios’ neck, just enough to prick his skin.

“I’m not going to need this, am I? My hand might slip … And I think you know better than to bite me.” 

Alexios nodded, tried to make it look reluctant rather than eager. Brasidas threw the sword aside – far enough to be out of Alexios’ reach – then patted his cheek. It didn’t hurt, but it made Alexios flush with shame and want. He couldn’t have said _why_ it made his cock ache, to have Brasidas treat him like this, to pretend he had to let himself be forced when they both knew just how eager he was on any night to take Brasidas’ cock in his mouth. They often fought each other, struggled playfully – sometimes to decide who would be on top that night, sometimes simply because they both enjoyed the fight itself – but this was something different, this feigned helplessness.

“Go on,” Brasidas said, with another pat on Alexios’ cheek, this one closer to a slap. Alexios bit back a moan. “You better get it wet; you might regret it if you don’t.”

Alexios could think of a dozen replies to that, ranging from cocky to crude, and decided that none of them were quite appropriate for a poor helpless traveller who was entirely at the mercy of a powerful Spartan. When he reached underneath Brasidas’ tunic, he found his cock hard and as unclothed as Alexios’ was – clearly they’d both been thinking ahead. He took a moment to stroke it, feel the heat in his hand, think about its taste, its weight on his tongue. He clearly took a moment too long, because Brasidas grabbed his chin, forced his thumb between Alexios’ lips and pushed his jaw open. His hands were strong and calloused, strong enough that Alexios almost felt as if Brasidas _could_ force him.

He tried to pull away when Brasidas pushed his cock between his lips, but the iron grip on his hair kept him in place. Brasidas had always liked pulling on his hair, but he was usually more careful when he took Alexios’ mouth, always hesitating to use him too roughly. As if he worried that Alexios would mind, that it would make him feel degraded and humiliated.

There was no such concern in him now. Alexios choked a little when Brasidas pulled him closer by his hair, and his cock felt far too big in Alexios’ mouth, his lips straining around it, his tongue desperately pushing against it. The suddenness of it made it hard to breathe, made black dots dance in front of his eyes, but he only tried to pull away out of instinct, not because he had any intention of escaping him. He moaned around Brasidas’ cock, finally abandoning his attempts at restraint and reaching underneath his tunic to touch himself. It was dizzying, how roughly Brasidas took what he wanted from him – not the way he would with a friend, with an equal, but as if he simply had the right to use him, and it only made Alexios want it more.

He all but whimpered when Brasidas suddenly pulled back. Still holding on to his hair, the tip of his cock brushing over Alexios’ lips. His eyes were wide when Alexios glanced up at him, the desire in them so strong that Alexios felt his cock twitch. It still took him by surprise at times, that Brasidas wanted him as desperately as the other way around, as if there weren’t more than enough other people he could have taken to his bed instead.

But instead he was here, staring at Alexios for a moment as if transfixed, and then he grabbed him and threw him down on the ground. Alexios had spread out a few blankets when he’d arrived – since he’d been quite sure Brasidas hadn’t just planned for them to sit under the stars – and he was grateful for them now as he scrambled to his hands and knees. He struggled again, not even with half his strength – the last thing he would have wanted was for Brasidas to actually stop – but it was enough to make Brasidas tighten his grip on his hair, on his hips, his thighs when he arranged him how he wanted him. 

The air was cold on his overheated skin when Brasidas pushed up his tunic, and when Alexios tried to squirm away from his touch, Brasidas hit him just once – a sharp, open-palmed smack on his arse. Alexios gasped for air, felt as if every muscle in his body tensed at the same time and then relaxed again. It hadn’t hurt compared to the pain of proper injuries, but it had stung in a strange, distracting way. He felt another brief flash of shame, just like when Brasidas had slapped his cheek, but this time he didn’t stop after one. His hand came down again on Alexios’ arse, this time on the other cheek – that same stinging pain, the heat going through his flesh while the air around him only felt colder, that odd tingle of pleasure that remained as the pain faded. Brasidas did it again, and again, made Alexios twitch and shake under his palms, and Alexios felt half out of his mind with want by the time the slaps abated and Brasidas finally rubbed his cock against the hot skin of Alexios’ arse. It was wet from Alexios’ spit, but he knew it wouldn’t be wet enough, knew it’d hurt and couldn’t bring himself to care one bit.

He bit his lip when Brasidas pushed into him, far more slowly than into his mouth earlier, but just as unrelentingly, splitting him open until Alexios’ thighs were shaking with the strain from trying to hold still. He’d taken Brasidas’ cock before, but it had always been after Brasidas’ fingers had worked him open with oil, and right now it felt almost unbearably big inside him. He heard Brasidas groan behind him, that deep, low sound Alexios hadn’t been able to get enough of since the very first time he’d put his hand on Brasidas’ cock. He pushed back against him; the discomfort seemed to matter so little when his cock was so heavy between his legs, when Brasidas’ hands grabbed him by the hips and held him so tightly Alexios was sure he’d bruise.

They’d done this before – face to face most of the time, sweat-slick from wrestling each other, laughing and teasing and unable to stop touching each other, Brasidas’ hand stroking Alexios’ cock while he took him in slow, deep thrusts. He’d never been this rough about it, fingers digging into the oversensitised skin of Alexios’ arse, further tightening their grip when Alexios reached behind himself with one hand to pull him closer. Somewhere along the way he’d forgotten to pretend, but he couldn’t stop himself from pushing back against Brasidas, couldn’t hold back the moans that wrecked him every time Brasidas thrust all the way into him.

He would have begged Brasidas to touch him if he’d had enough breath in his lungs for words, but the sensations were so overwhelming that he didn’t even need him to. Didn’t need anything but his cock and the sound of his moans, and when Brasidas grabbed his hair again and pulled him up against his chest, his moans hot against Alexios’ neck as he came inside him, Alexios’ cock twitched again and he spilt over himself without even the briefest touch. The intensity of it made him close his eyes for a moment, and he sank back against Brasidas’ chest.

The next minute or two were a bit of a blur – the slight burn when Brasidas pulled out of him, strong hands moving him around, the sounds of clasps being opened and pieces of armour dropped, and then the warmth of the fire on one side and the heat of Brasidas’ body against the other. They were sprawled out on the blankets, Alexios still in his tunic while Brasidas had stripped down completely, his naked body pressed against Alexios’ back. He was kissing Alexios’ neck, his fingers idly stroking over Alexios’ chest, and he hummed in contentment when Alexios reached back to brush his fingertips over his beard.

“So that was your plan, hm?” Alexios asked after a while. His voice sounded hoarse to his own ears, and Brasidas laughed softly against his neck. His hand had slid a bit further up, gently caressing Alexios’ throat, right where he’d put a blade earlier.

“Something like that, yes.” He sounded pleased, and much more like his usual self again – a little mischievous, and always far more good-humoured than most other Spartans Alexios knew. As attractive as it was when he was being serious and commanding, Alexios liked him far better like this.

“I don’t think I played my part very well,” Alexios said, though he truly didn’t know how anyone could possibly pretend _not_ to want Brasidas. Again Brasidas laughed, and Alexios felt the low rumble of it against his back.

“You played it better than I expected.”

Alexios half turned to gave Brasidas an offended look, which only made him laugh again, and this time Alexios couldn’t help but join in.

“Are you saying I’m not a good actor?” Alexios asked with a grin. 

“A terrible one, actually.” Brasidas met his eyes, cupped Alexios chin to keep him from turning away. “You’re far too Spartan to make a good actor, my friend. But I got exactly what I wanted, if that was your question.”

For a moment Alexios was quiet – sometimes Brasidas would say things like that, so open and earnest with his affections. At first Alexios had assumed that it was simply how he was, but ever since he’d returned to Sparta, he’d seen Brasidas interact with plenty of other people. He was still friendly and kind, when he wasn’t giving orders or training with his men, but there was a different note in the things he said to Alexios when they were alone, something that wasn’t there even when he spoke to his oldest friends.

Alexios wasn’t half as good as saying these kinds of things, at finding words for all the affection and gratitude he felt towards him, or for his desire for him, or for the way his heart seemed to beat faster as if he were a nervous boy before his first battle every time he saw Brasidas. Or for all the things he wondered when Brasidas looked at him the way he was now, his hand gentle on Alexios’ cheek, his eyes so fond that “fondness” did not seem like the right word anymore.

“So did I,” Alexios said quietly, as if this moment was too fragile to withstand raised voices. “And I didn’t even know I wanted it.”

He meant their little game, of course, but also the fact that they were here at all – that Brasidas took the time to come see him despite his countless duties and obligations, that every time they saw each other again, it felt like the last time had only been the week before rather than a whole year or two ago. It made Alexios feel like Brasidas would still be here when all this was over, the Cult and the war and his vengeance and his mission to bring his sister home. Like there was one thing Alexios did that wasn’t for his family, or for Sparta, or the greater good, but just for himself.

And maybe, in the midst of all those duties Brasidas never complained about, being with Alexios was also the one thing Brasidas did solely for himself.

Finally Alexios looked away, his neck aching slightly from keeping it turned, and he let out a soft, content sigh when Brasidas’ fingers rubbed gently over it, starting to massage out knots he hadn’t even known had been there.

“Are we going to stay here?” Alexios asked. His limbs felt heavy, and he was quite happy he’d decided to walk here instead of taking Phobos. He wasn’t in pain exactly, but the idea of riding home didn’t appeal. 

“Mhm, we could, but I think the night will get much colder before long.” Brasidas settled against Alexios’ back again, his face buried against his neck. It was warm, and far more comfortable than lying on the ground with nothing but a few blankets had any right to be. “But we can stay a little longer before we head back.”

In the end, they didn’t head back until morning, and the cold was the last thing on Alexios’ mind.


End file.
